Stepping Up
by Steff
Summary: Delia takes responsibility for her rash actions
**Summary** : For Delia, size does not matter when it comes to defending your friends

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : Please allow a little poetic licence for this one-shot

* * *

Nurses Barbara Gilbert and Delia Busby trudged forlornly into the prep room at Nonnatus House. Their last call had been a complete disaster and there would be repercussions, probably extreme ones.

Barbara felt like crying, and from the look on Delia's face, she was not alone. She sighed as she opened her bag in order to unpack her kit. "What are we going to do?" She asked softly.

Delia gritted her teeth as she yanked articles from her own bag. "You're going to say nothing, and I'm going to take responsibility for my actions," she told her firmly.

"That's not fair, Delia. They need to know what happened."

"It doesn't excuse what happened, and it doesn't undo it either. Better that only one of us gets it in the neck," Delia retorted, her tone determined.

Syncopated steps from the corridor signalled the arrival of another member of staff and both brunettes so looked up to see nurse Crane standing in the doorway, clearly seething with anger. "I thought I heard you return. Office. Now."

The two young nurses nodded and followed the marching senior nurse to sister Julienne's office. Sister Julienne herself was already seated, her face giving nothing away, but it was clear that she too was tense.

"Sit down," ordered nurse Crane as she joined sister Julienne on the other side of the table.

"I've just taken a rather alarming telephone call," sister Julienne began, her normally serene tone somewhat tighter than usual.

Barbara and Delia glanced at each other before looking back to the senior sister.

"Is it true?"

"Yes, sister." Delia confirmed, nodding her her head to emphasise her answer.

Nurse Crane gasped, her last hope that it had all been an unfunny joke dashed. "You punched Mickey Clarke?" She asked, still wanting confirmation.

"If that's his name then yes, nurse Crane." Delia spoke softly but her voice was clear.

"Why?" Sister Julienne asked.

Delia took a deep breath and released it before answering. "It doesn't matter, sister. It wouldn't excuse what I did."

Barbara looked sharply at her Welsh friend but Delia refused to meet her gaze.

"Granted it won't excuse what you did, but I would like to understand why you felt it appropriate to punch a 15 year old boy in the face."

"Fifteen?" Burst out Barbara incredulously. Delia spun her head to glare at her, and the vicar's daughter shut her mouth and looked down.

Delia looked steadily at the two older women, before continuing. "His behaviour became intolerable, and he would not stop, despite several warnings. I ran out of options."

"Violence is never an option," sister Julienne demurred. "Perhaps you will be more forthcoming when his parents arrive here."

"They're coming here?" Barbara asked, her voice rising in disbelief.

"Yes. It was why they rang. Mr and Mrs Clarke want to see the nurse who hit their son," nurse Crane explained coldly.

Delia closed her eyes. This was all spiralling out of control very rapidly.

"You should look ashamed, nurse Busby," nurse Crane continued, anger lacing her words. "Now the pair of you are to wait in the kitchen until they arrive. Make sure you're looking smart. And think about what you are going to say to them," she advised sharply. "If they decide to press charges, you'll be out of a job."

Delia and Barbara both swallowed and nodded. "Yes, nurse Crane." They made their excuses and trudged back to the kitchen, Barbara sitting heavily at one chair while Delia moved to the kettle. The air was thick with tension and neither woman said anything until Delia sat opposite, placing a cup of tea in front of Barbara.

"I can't lose my job," Barbara stated, her voice wobbly.

"You won't," Delia told her. "This one is firmly on me." She took a gulp of tea, the cup clattering slightly as it was returned to the saucer.

"I can't imagine what my father would say if I lost my job." Barbara seemed to be stuck in the moment.

Delia laughed hollowly. "The most ironic thing about all of this is that my mam would be absolutely delighted if I lost my job." She shook her head as she continued, exaggerating her Welsh accent; "No point in staying in London now, is there, Cariad? Come home and settle down. Get away from all those bad influences." Delia's impression of her mother was uncanny.

"Does your mother think we're a bad influence?" Barbara asked, genuinely surprised.

"Not all of you," Delia responded darkly.

Their conversation was halted by a the door bell clanging. It was sister Julienne herself who went to answer as nurse Crane came into the kitchen. "Come with me nurse Busby," she instructed coldly.

Delia took one last look at her friend before doing as ordered. It was bizarre timing that Patsy and Trixie arrived back just as Delia left. She saw Barbara at the table with a stricken look on her face. "What's going on?"

"We're in trouble," the vicar's daughter began, still unwilling to allow Delia to shoulder the blame.

Her words were said with such finality, Patsy sat down in alarm. "What happened?"

Barbara stared at the corridor. She knew Delia had told her to keep quiet, but she was certain that wouldn't include telling Patsy or Trixie. "Delia punched a boy," she said simply.

"Don't be ridiculous," Patsy refuted instantly. "I don't think she's ever lost her temper in all the years I've known her."

"She was defending me," Barbara explained. Patsy sat back, cold dread seeping through her. That scenario was much more believable. Delia had never let her size stop her from stepping in.

"Defending you against what?" Trixie asked, joining them at the table.

Barbara sighed and worried at her thumbnail for a few seconds. "We had just finished at Mrs Moreton's. Delia had met me there to help turn her after dressing her bed-sores. When we came out, there were a group of boys by our bikes. When I tried to get to them, one of them got a bit," she hesitated as she searched for the right word. "Personal, I suppose."

Patsy frowned and leaned forward again. "Personal?" She asked gently.

"It was all a bit of talk at first, and then one lad grabbed me. I brushed him off but he did it again. Delia told him to back off and he laughed at her, asking what she could do to stop him."

Patsy dropped her head into her hands. "Is that when she swung for him?" She asked fatalistically.

"No. She warned him first. Told him that he didn't want to find out and that he should move away." Barbara shuddered. "He laughed again and grabbed me a third time. That was when she punched him." Barbara paused as she recalled it. "Right in the eye. He went flying as he wasn't expecting it at all. All his friends laughed at him and he ran off. Then the other boys ran off too, although they did say sorry when they left, which was a bit strange." The brunette started biting her nail again. "I think Delia realised what she'd done then. She told me to keep quiet as there was no point us both getting in trouble."

"Does sister Julienne know what happened?" Trixie asked. "Surely they won't take action when they realise you were provoked."

"It doesn't seem to matter to Delia. 'The ends don't justify the means' she said."

"That sounds like Delia," Patsy concurred grimly. She had a horrible feeling that this was not going to end well.

In the office, Delia sat stiffly in her chair as the Clarkes filed in and sat in the seats provided. Sister Julienne made her way back round her desk and joined nurse Crane. "Mr and Mrs Clarke, thank you for coming." She stared at their son for a moment, noting that his left eye was already swelling. There was no doubt he had received a punch, and a good one at that. She nodded acknowledgement of his presence before returning her gaze to his parents. "I'm sister Julienne. I spoke with you on the telephone when you requested a meeting with the nurse involved. Nurse Busby is here to apologise..."

"Apologise? Nurse Busby?" Mrs Clarke was incredulous. "Oh, no - I don't want an apology from her. And wasn't there another nurse involved too? Charlie told me it was two nurses. She needs to be in here too." She was insistent.

Nurse Crane nodded and rose, returning with a very pale looking Barbara a few moments later. Barbara sat down next to Delia and risked a glance at her. She could feel the tension radiating off her, and she looked like she was on the edge of cracking. Barbara felt that way herself but she took a deep breath and introduced herself. "I'm nurse Gilbert."

"It was you who was involved in what happened?" Mrs Clarke wanted confirmation.

"Nurse Gilbert was there but it was me who punched your son, Mrs Clarke and for that I am sorry." Delia's voice was surprisingly measured and rang with sincerity.

"We didn't ask to meet you so that you could apologise," Mr Clarke spoke for the first time, his voice gruff. He turned to his son. "Go on lad."

Charlie looked down and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Son, stand up and face those nurses." Mr Clarke's tone was icily implacable.

Charlie stood up slowly and looked at the two young nurses reluctantly. "I'm sorry, miss," he started - looking at Barbara. "I shouldn't have done that." He made to sit down when Mr Clarke shook his head. "And the other one," he instructed firmly. Charlie looked imploringly at his father who remained unmoved. He looked at Delia. "I'm sorry, miss. I should have done what you asked."

Charlie's father nodded and gestured for him to regain his seat.

"I thought we'd brought Charlie up better than that," Mrs Clarke stated apologetically to sister Julienne and nurse Crane who both had bewildered looks on their faces.

"Does this mean that you don't want to bring charges?" Sister Julienne asked as delicately as possible.

"Charges? Why would we do that? He got what he deserved, the bloody idiot," Mr Clarke replied. "I was just about to ask if your two nurses would possibly consider not pressing charges against Charlie. It would be a terrible mark on his record."

Nurse Crane shook her head, totally confused at how this had unfolded. "Sorry, let me get this straight. Nurse Busby hits your son, and you want her not to press charges against him? I don't understand,' she admitted candidly.

Mrs Clarke answered. "Charlie was with his mates and playing up. _For a laugh_ , he says, he grabbed nurse, Gilbert was it?" She looked to Barbara for confirmation and she nodded. "Nurse Busby steps in to stop him and he tried to play the hard man. I don't know where he got that from, I've always told him to respect women."

"Well he got his comeuppance," Mr Clarke interjected. He looked between Charlie and Delia. "Look at her, she's tiny. I hope you're embarrassed as well as sorry," he continued. Charlie nodded remorsefully.

Mrs Clarke looked at the two young nurses earnestly. "He's not a bad kid. He's just been hanging round with the wrong sort. He needs to be with boys his own age, not teenage tear-aways. He needed a bit of an attitude adjustment, and you've given him one." She paused. "Please don't press charges," she begged.

Delia and Barbara exchanged glances before looking to sister Julienne and nurse Crane. "The decision is yours," the senior nun advised them.

"I have no intention of pressing charges," Barbara stated firmly.

Delia smiled grimly. "I've already passed my judgement."

Mr and Mrs Clarke sighed with relief. "Thank you. We'll leave you in peace," Mrs Clarke said gratefully. She looked at nurse Crane again. "Please don't punish them," she requested. "If Charlie had behaved properly, none of this would have happened."

"There is no excuse for violence," sister Julienne replied, her voice mild.

"It was self-defence in my opinion, or at least, defence of family - you nurses all treat each other like family. And that's the same thing to me," Mr Clarke supplied.

"You've got sisters, haven't you?" Delia asked with shrewd insight.

"And you've got brothers. That's the only explanation for such an amazing punch." He grinned in admiration at the small Welsh woman, who remained somber as she nodded confirmation.

It became blatantly clear as the nurses stood up along with the Clarke family just why the punch had been described as 'amazing' by Mr Clarke. Despite being only 15, puberty had hit early for Charlie and he towered over Delia, standing at least 7 inches taller than her.

Barbara and Delia watched as sister Julienne led the Clarkes out. "What happens now?" Delia asked anxiously.

"That will be for sister Julienne to decide," nurse Crane advised flatly. "I do have one question to ask before she returns however," she continued. "How did someone who is at best five foot three in her NHS issue shoes, manage to plant such a peach of a punch?"

Both women looked at nurse Crane in surprise, realising that she had pieced together the incident accurately and was completely on their side.

"Welsh determination," Delia stated grimly before her face took on a more affectionate tone. "That and having to keep three older brothers in line," she revealed. Nurse Crane nodded curtly, but the gesture was one of support. Delia sighed, and hoped that sister Julienne would have the same understanding.

On her return to the office, sister Julienne was briskly formal as she sat down. "Nurse Busby, when I invited you to lodge at Nonnatus House, I expected you to respect our rules and tenets." Delia hung her head, feeling excruciating shame at being reproached by the senior sister.

Sister Julienne continued. "Up until today, your behaviour and actions have been exemplary. You have had a positive effect on all of us here." She sighed and paused for a moment. "The Clarkes continued to request leniency on your behalf as I escorted them out. Your actions have clearly had a profound impact on them all, and I am convinced that Charlie will view women with a newfound respect from now on."

"Your only saving grace in this debacle is that you immediately took full responsibility for your actions. Furthermore, you did not hide behind excuses or mitigation and accepted that your choice of action had been wrong right at the start." Sister Julienne paused again, considering her options.

"There will be a note of this incident placed on your record," she advised and Delia felt her heart lurch in fear. "But that will be the end of the matter. You're extremely lucky nurse Busby. However _chivalrous_ your intentions, you could have lost your job." Delia nodded solemnly, trying to keep control of her emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her.

Sister Julienne sat back and surveyed the two nurses. "There will be absolutely no repeat of this sort of behaviour," she stated. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, sister," Delia and Barbara replied in unison. They got up and left the office at the senior nun's gesture, Barbara grabbing her friend and hugging her gratefully as soon as the door had closed. Knowing that Patsy and Trixie were anxiously waiting in the kitchen, they hurried there and recounted the meeting to a rapt audience.

Much later, in Delia's room, Patsy held the brunette and gently ran her fingers up and down Delia's arm. "Are you okay?" She asked, noting that Delia had said very little since leaving the kitchen.

"I was so stupid today, Pats," Delia replied quietly. "I didn't think of any of the consequences at the time. All I saw was poor Barbara getting molested and all we were doing was our job. I didn't know he was only a boy."

"How could you? He's almost as tall as his father," Patsy pointed out reasonably. "And from how you described it, he was hanging out with older lads. You couldn't have known."

"It doesn't matter. He could have punched me back, and that would have hurt. I could have got another head injury. I almost lost my job. I _should_ have lost my job. God, then where would we be?" Delia's voice caught and she buried her face into the crook of Patsy's neck.

"You can't help being the knight in shining armour, Deels. It's in your nature."

"I just hate bullies." There was a real passion in the whispered words.

"I know," Patsy replied, hugging her lover close. She smiled slightly. "Do you remember that party we went to during our first year training?"

Delia groaned and rolled over onto her back. "How could I forget?" She asked glibly. "She did deserve it though," she added darkly.

Patsy laughed. "It was the most glorious comeuppance I think I've ever seen," she commented. "Yvonne Harris, full of prejudice and snobbery trying to sneer at anyone who wasn't in her clique."

"It didn't bother me when she was picking on me, I'd been used to it since I started. But I wasn't going to stand there and allow her to lay into you."

The red-haired nurse smiled. "You didn't even know me then," Patsy commented, the smile on her face broadening as she recalled this small Celtic firebrand tearing into Yvonne on her behalf.

"I knew you, Pats. I just hadn't plucked up the courage to really talk to you outside of class." Delia snorted with disgust. "I could see you was hating the attention, and she knew it too. She was just being cruel, and because she was surrounded by her vapid friends, she thought she had every right to humiliate you just for a laugh."

"I think it was when you told her that beer was very good for the hair after you tipped that pint over her that made me determined to seek you out and thank you afterwards."

"I'm glad you did. That little stunt got me sent to Coventry by all her vile friends, and earned a fair bit of nasty retribution on the ward too. I really didn't care if I was friends with them or not, but I cared that they were affecting my work record. Thankfully, once they saw we were spending time together, I think they realised I wasn't quite so isolated anymore and left me alone." Delia sighed again. "I nearly ruined everything today Patsy. I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologise. I'm proud of you for sticking up for Barbara." Patsy rolled over slightly so she could face Delia properly. "I overheard nurse Crane talking with sister Julienne when I was cleaning up," she told Delia conspiratorially. "I think nurse Crane is rather proud of you too."

"I know sister Julienne isn't," replied Delia sadly. "I feel awful letting her down."

"Sister Julienne told nurse Crane that she decided not to do anything else after Charlie Clarke offered to do odd jobs at the convent at weekends for the next month to make up for his behaviour. Completely unprompted by his parents apparently. He said he'd never be able to live down being floored by a girl so he wanted to spend time here so hopefully, and sister Julienne quoted this bit, nurse Busby could teach him how to throw a proper punch, for self defence purposes only he stressed." Patsy could not stop the laughter coming as she related the conversation as Delia covered her face with her hands.

"I'm surprised I'm still here," she said.

"I think sister Julienne's rather proud of you too," Patsy told her. "She's extremely protective of her young women and you clearly are too." Delia shrugged non-commitally, uncomfortable with the compliment.

Patsy moved closer and took Delia into her arms once more. "Did I tell you how very charming I found your gallantry today?" She asked, her eyebrows waggling suggestively.

"Gallantry?" Delia queried, frowning at the terminology.

Patsy sighed dramatically. "Going to aid a damsel in distress. It's terribly noble of you," she teased.

Delia shook her head, feeling better. "Shut up Pats." She blushed. "It's embarrassing."

Delia tried to wiggle free from Patsy's grip but the taller midwife had no intention of letting her go. "It's not embarrassing," she demurred softly. "It's endearing, and I love you for it."

Delia immediately stopped moving and instead rested her palm against the cheek of her lover. "I love you too," she stated gently and tugged Patsy towards her, looking at her lips longingly.

Patsy's gaze softened and she closed the gap, drawing her lover into a long kiss of love and reassurance.

* * *

 **Author's postscript:** Whilst these days this incident would have ended in dismissal, I know from experience that things were managed differently when I was undertaking training (some 25 years ago) for which I was extremely grateful so I can only imagine that same attitude would have been present some 30 odd years before that.


End file.
